


illustrate the remnants of the life i used to live

by WitchofEndor



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25422037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchofEndor/pseuds/WitchofEndor
Summary: Zuko's soul marks have been regularly burned away since before he knew what they meant. He knows that he cannot be loyal to his father and his nation while also being loyal to a soul family, so he doesn't look for them. Unfortunately, that means that he doesn't know when he's found them.
Relationships: The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 394
Kudos: 3638
Collections: A:tla, Finished111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am fascinated with soul family and soul mark AUs, though I've never written one before. This is a soulmate AU with soul families, but there are no soul bonding moments - people know because their symbols match, which makes it awkward when you've been regularly burning your symbols away since childhood. 
> 
> (Title is from 'Eden' by Sara Bareilles.)
> 
> Content warning: This fic includes canon-typical child abuse, alongside depictions of self-harm (both through the burning of soul marks).
> 
> Edited to add a warning: I also think it might be worth warning that Zuko displays signs of Complex PTSD in this fic, including but not limited to moments of dissociation.

Zuko doesn’t know what the burning means for a long time. He’s five years old when he realises that it’s only him. Azula doesn’t have a scar, and doesn’t get taken away for regular burnings. At first, he thinks that it’s because Azula is special. After all, mother has a scar, too. 

Zuko is seven when he realises that they’re the exception, not the rule.

Zuko’s burn is on his collarbone, stretching from the skin over the bone to the soft flesh above it, from close to his throat to halfway across his shoulder. Zuko’s burn is visible sometimes, depending on the clothes he’s wearing. He assumes that other people’s burns just aren’t visible. His mother’s scar is on her ankle, after all, which he has only seen in brief glimpses. But when he’s seven, he starts to notice that some people have tiny pictures, instead. They’re little outlines of symbols in inky black. He doesn’t have any symbols. Azula doesn’t have any symbols _or_ any scars, as far as Zuko knows, aside from the scar on her leg from when she’d pushed him out of a tree and then overbalanced and tumbled after him. (Zuko had broken his arm, but he’d been more worried about the blood from Azula’s cut, and they’d both been trying very hard not to cry.)

When Zuko asks if she has a scar or a symbol that’s hidden, Azula doesn’t seem to know what Zuko is talking about. But Azula is an excellent liar, just like how she’s good at pretty much everything, so it doesn’t prove much. 

He asks his mother, and she looks briefly distressed before walking him to the turtleducks and telling him about soulmates. 

It sounds like she’s telling him something good. There are people out there who are his soul family, like how Mother and Father and Azula and Uncle Iroh and Cousin Lu Ten are his blood family. But Mother doesn’t sound happy about it. Zuko isn’t the best at understanding when people do sound happy, but he’s pretty sure that his mother sounds sad. He asks. 

“I’m not sad that you have a soul family, Zuko,” Mother insists, sweeping a cool hand over his forehead. Mother isn’t like him and Azula and Father - she isn’t a firebender, so she doesn’t run hot. Zuko likes the coolness of her skin. “I’m sad about the burning.”

Zuko asks about why he has the burning instead of the marks. He understands, now, that the burning happens whenever his skin starts to turn black again, when the symbols threaten to reform - but that doesn’t mean that he understands _why_. 

Mother runs her hand over his forehead again, and then pulls her into his side. Her fingers rest over his clavicle, where the skin is still tender from the burning a week prior. 

“Your father and grandfather want you to be loyal to your blood family,” she explains. 

Zuko pulls away, deeply offended in a way that he only is when Azula’s being _especially mean_. 

“I am loyal!” he insists. 

“I know, my meerdove,” his mother says. “But sometimes, people are more loyal to their soul family than their blood family. And… in our family, we need to be loyal to blood, because being loyal to our blood family is how we are loyal to the nation.”

Zuko isn’t sure that this makes sense. Surely, his soul family would want him to be loyal to his blood family and the nation. Otherwise, why would they be his soul family?

But then, Zuko doesn’t know what soul families really are. Maybe they’re not good. Maybe that’s why he needs to have the burning. 

Eventually, Zuko nods. “Do you and Father also have to burn away your marks?” he asks. 

Mother smiles and shakes her head. “Your father doesn’t have any marks. Most people don’t,” she explains. “I have two marks, but I don’t have to burn them away.”

“But I’ve seen it!” Zuko insists. “It’s a scar, too!”

Mother glances around the two of them, but their only company is the turtleducks. She swiftly raises layers of clothing until Zuko can see the marks up close.

It isn’t a burn mark like Zuko’s. It’s two symbols close together, scarred over instead of black. Zuko reaches out to touch them, and his mother inhales sharply, but doesn’t pull away. 

“What does it mean?” Zuko asks. 

He means to ask what the symbols mean. One is a pair of intersecting circles, and the other looks like the outline of a smiling theatre mask. He immediately loves them. They’re Mother’s soul family. Maybe her soul family is also _his_ soul family. 

“It means that my soul family aren’t in this world anymore,” Mother explains, and it takes a moment for Zuko to realise that she’s answering why it’s a scar, not what the symbols mean. 

Then Zuko feels an overwhelming sadness. Mother’s soul family are dead. 

He wraps his arms around her middle and lets her hold him. It always makes his mother feel better when she holds Zuko, even though Father and Azula think that it makes both of them weak. 

After a long time, Zuko asks about his marks. Mother sighs and doesn’t reply, and Zuko asks again, but he knows that he isn’t going to get an answer. 

Later, Mother comes to visit when Zuko is in bed. She leans over and presses her painted lips to his temple, and then leans over further and whispers into his left ear: 

“You have five.”

* * *

The burnings continue as normal. As soon as black shows up on his skin, he’s whisked away to be burnt by his father or his grandfather. As the years go on, Zuko starts to realise that he can stop this from happening by doing the burning himself before anyone else can see the black. 

This means that he never sees the evidence of Mother’s claim that he has five marks, and he never will, but it’s still… a comfort, sometimes. He knows that it’s not _supposed_ to be a comfort, but Zuko steals away and reads anything he can find on soulmates, and he knows now that they’re supposed to love him. He has five whole people in the world that will love him. That’s six, including Mother! 

Zuko is eleven when everything falls apart. Lu Ten is gone, and then Mother leaves, too. (Does she leave? Is she alive?) 

The night that Mother disappears, she comes to speak with him when he is still half asleep. Zuko would think that this was a dream, were it not for the letter she leaves behind, tucked behind his pillow.

 _I drew this after your first burning, in case you ever wanted to know_ , is all it says, in rushed handwriting. The note is followed by five symbols.

Zuko doesn’t want the symbols. He wants Mother. But he hides the letter, and as time goes by, he returns to it and stares at the five pictures that should make up his mark. 

The first is clearly the outline of an arrow. It’s the only one that Zuko can recognise. The second might be a half-moon, but it’s misshapen, and Zuko doesn’t know if that’s because mother was drawing in a rush from memory or if it’s supposed to be that way. The next is just a series of swirls. The fourth is a semicircle with another semicircle inside, and the fifth looks like an eye, but his mother has shaded over the iris in light grey. 

When Zuko is twelve, he lets the scar rest for too long, because he wants to see if he can even make out that they are five distinctive marks. It’s the first time in years that his father takes over the burning. 

He doesn’t make that mistake again.

* * *

When Zuko is thirteen, he lets the scar on his clavicle rest. He’s too busy recovering from the burn on his face. 

After a month without burning himself, Zuko peers into the mirror with his unbandaged eye, and if he really concentrates, he might be able to make out that there are five separate symbols emerging on his scar. 

At first, Zuko feels a burst of longing. He has no blood family anymore, not unless he can track down the Avatar (who hasn’t been seen in a hundred years) and regain his honour. But he could have a soul family. Maybe his soul family would accept him, even without his honour.

But then Zuko thinks about loyalty to his father and his nation. If he tries to find his soul family instead of the Avatar, then he would be abandoning his blood family and his nation, and his honour would be gone for good. His father and grandfather had been correct. The soul marks were a weakness, tempting him to abandon his loyalties. 

Zuko pulls up fire in his palm, even though it makes his heart beat iguarabbit-fast in his chest. He can barely breathe with the fire this close to him.

He burns the marks away.


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


Sokka and his new friend (the Fire Prince, which Hakoda is going to need _some time to process_ ) rescue him from imprisonment. And that’s how Hakoda gets to meet the rest of his children’s soul family.

Suki is the fan, Hakoda learns, because she is a Kyoshi Warrior. His kids had apparently met her some time ago, on the beginning of their travels with the Avatar, but they hadn’t realised that they were soulmates until they’d run across her again. And then the soul family had been separated again. Now, the family is together, and Hakoda hugs his children and then each of their soul family in turn. 

Their family will never truly be complete, but this is as complete as they’ll ever be. 

Seeing them all together, Hakoda recalls explaining the scarred mark to Katara and Sokka. They’d been too young for the conversation, probably, but he and Kya had agreed that they would explain it once the kids asked. Katara had cried immediately when Hakoda had gently tried to explain that marks scarred over once the mark on the soulmate was gone, but it had taken Sokka longer to realise that the mark being gone meant that a member of their soul family had died before meeting them. Sokka had crossed his arms and insisted that sometimes people lost arms, and maybe their soulmate was still alive. Days later, Hakoda had found his son staring at the scarred over mark on his arm and wiping away angry tears.

It wasn’t fair. But his kids were still soul family with one another, which was exceedingly rare (usually soul families were specifically _not_ blood relatives). They had one another to lean on, and they knew that there would be three more brothers and sisters to come. 

And now they were all together, finally. Hakoda only wished that they hadn’t been brought together because of war. 

There are other kids in the camp, too. Hakoda tries to ensure that he spends time with all of them, because it’s clear that they’re all severely lacking in adult figures in their current lives. It’s harder to pin down the prince, because it seems that Prince Zuko is determined to avoid him. 

(Interestingly, this doesn’t mean that Prince Zuko leaves the space whenever Hakoda enters. The teenager likes to stay at the edges and watch Hakoda warily, like he’s waiting for Hakoda to do something terrible. Hakoda almost, _almost_ , finds it funny that Katara is essentially watching the prince the same way. But then he realises that the prince is watching Hakoda because his own father was _Fire Lord Ozai_ , and the kid’s view of fathers is probably deeply messed up. And Katara is watching Prince Zuko because he’d chased them across the world like a psychopath, and she isn't convinced that he is trustworthy.)

It’s only because Hakoda is paying attention to all of the kids that he notices when Prince Zuko deviates from his norm. They’re sitting around the fire, having finished dinner some time ago. Katara and Prince Zuko are finishing with the dishes, with some ‘help’ from Aang (who doesn’t really help with the dishes, but at least keeps Katara and the prince from trading blows). Hakoda looks over the kids around the campfire, doing his best to check that everyone is doing okay, and his eyes snag on the prince because… well, because it’s interesting that the kid would help with the dishes, since he is (was?) actual royalty. 

Because of this, he sees Prince Zuko glance at the last iron plate and pull at the neck of his tunic. He then turns to Katara and says something. Katara slams down the last of her plates before replying, and the two frown at each other for a few moments before Aang intervenes. Then Katara walks to her bags and retrieves something, which she passes off to the prince. 

It’s a mirror. The prince appears to thank her before looking at Hakoda warily, and then he turns on his heel and walks away.

The thing is, the prince usually wants to hover whenever Hakoda is with the other kids. Specifically, he seems hesitant to leave Hakoda alone with Katara or Sokka. Hakoda doesn’t like the implications (about Hakoda _or_ about the prince’s experiences), but he at least respects that the prince is concerned about Katara and Sokka. So this behaviour strikes Hakoda as odd, and since he’s trying his best to ensure that the kids are all okay, he ends up following Prince Zuko.

What he finds is horrifying and perplexing in equal measure. 

“ _Stop_ ,” Hakoda barks before he has a moment to think. The prince jumps and almost drops the mirror. The flame in his hand flares, but he’s not _holding it to his own neck_ anymore. “What are you _doing_?”

The prince has gone even paler, which isn't something Hakoda would have thought possible. There’s still fire in his hand, jumping and flaring like it is trying to get away. 

“I,” the prince starts, and then visibly has a hard time catching his breath. 

Hakoda looks down at the huge, angry burn on the prince’s bare collarbone. 

He takes a step forward, and the prince takes a step backwards. Hakoda stops, trying to figure out what the best tactic is for this scenario, but he’s so far beyond his expertise that he’s left flailing. 

“Were you… hurting yourself?” he asks, trying to keep his voice gentle. 

The prince scowls. “No,” he says, and then looks at the flame in his hand. He extinguishes it, which leaves them with only the slowly dimming daylight. “I mean, yes, but not-- not for fun or something!”

Hakoda frowns and crosses his arms, trying to puzzle that one out.

The prince continues to scowl. “It’s not your business,” he says, and Hakoda realises that the hand around the mirror - _Katara’s_ mirror - is trembling. 

Hakoda clears his throat. “So you were burning yourself, but not because you want to burn yourself,” he tries. “Could you… explain that to me?” 

The prince looks at a loss for words for a moment. “I don’t have to explain anything to you,” he states, but he doesn’t sound sure of himself at all. And his hand is still trembling. 

Hakoda is far out of his depth. He’s also the only adult here, and this is a traumatised kid who is fighting a war against his own father, and Hakoda is not naive enough to think that the massive burn scar covering half the kid’s face was given to him by anyone other than said father. Hakoda is both the person who has to handle this, and the last person Zuko is going to trust. 

“No,” he says, “you don’t. I can get…” Katara would be his go-to, because she’s good with people and emotions and could also heal the wound on Zuko’s neck, but she also clearly doesn’t like or trust the prince. Aang and Toph are just little kids, they shouldn’t be exposed to self-harm (or any kind of harm, but beggars can’t be choosers in war). As far as Hakoda knows, Suki and Zuko have only just met. “Sokka?” 

“Don’t tell Sokka,” Zuko says quickly. “I don’t-- Look, it’s not a _big deal_ ,” he insists. “It’s just… maintenance.”

“Maintenance,” Hakoda repeats, eyes narrowing. 

Zuko gestures to the scar on his neck. “It’s where my soul marks would be.”

And that… that makes it _much worse_. 

“You’re burning away your soul marks?” Hakoda asks, unable to disguise the horror in his voice. “Why would you do that?”  
  
Zuko scowls. It’s a different kind of scowl - confused, maybe. “They’ve been burned away as long as I can remember,” he explains, “but sometimes they start to reappear, that’s all.” His scowl deepens at whatever expression he’s seeing on Hakoda’s face. “It doesn’t hurt that much anymore or anything.”

Hakoda draws in a deep breath. He has a _lot_ of questions, some of which are based around the fact that firebenders are known for not burning easily and therefore it must take a lot of, of _effort_ to-- But he cuts that thought off and goes to the important part:

“Why do your soul marks need to be burned off?” 

Zuko’s scowl turns thoughtful. “My family always said it was about loyalty,” he says. “But I suppose you’re right: I’m not loyal to my blood family anymore, anyway.” 

That had _not_ been Hakoda’s point, but it does sound like Zuko might be talking himself out of literally burning his own flesh on a regular basis, so he doesn’t correct him. He nods at Zuko, who nods back (and doesn’t that hurt with a fresh burn on his neck?). 

Hakoda is looking for a way to close this conversation with an assurance that Zuko isn’t going to be burning himself once he’s out of sight, and something occurs to him.

“If they’ve been burned off since you can remember, do you know what they look like?”

Zuko’s face relaxes a little, until he’s not scowling at all. Hakoda had almost forgotten that he was capable of it. 

“Uh, my mother tried to draw them for me once,” he admits. “It was from memory, so they were pretty rough. Why?”

The scarred-over symbol on his kids has always been a confusing one. It’s a flame with two intersecting lines at the bottom of it, which Katara has always claimed is a campfire, but Sokka has always interpreted it as a pair of flaming swords. Either way, they’re all in agreement that it’s fire of some sort, and hadn’t Hakoda heard Aang lament that it was probably the person who was supposed to teach him firebending?

And here’s Aang’s firebending teacher, with a large patch of skin burned off where soul marks should be.

“Out of interest,” Hakoda says, trying his best to sound casual, “do you know how many were there?”

Zuko shrugs. “Five, if she remembered correctly,” he answers.

Hakoda thinks of Sokka at seven years old, arms folded and eyebrows drawn together as he insisted that ‘the mark is gone’ didn’t have to mean ‘the soulmate is gone’. 

It could be a coincidence, Hakoda tells himself. There really might have been a person destined to be Aang’s firebending teacher, whose place Zuko is taking. But a bubble of hope rises in him, and he refuses to pop it. 

“Let your marks grow back, son,” Hakoda says, and then deliberately doesn’t wince at his own instinctual use of the word ‘son’. “Maybe you could use the loyalty of a soul family.”

Zuko pauses, his expression ever-wary as he watches Hakoda. Hakoda steps away, leaving Zuko to rest his wound and let his soul marks grow back, and hopes that Sokka’s intuition was correct.


	3. Chapter 3

Sokka gets his boomerang stuck in a tree. He looks upwards, impossibly sad, and Zuko sighs. 

Zuko has just sent Aang back to his room to change, because they’ve tired themselves out with firebending practice today. It’s also hot beyond belief, and Zuko has been looking forward to washing. Being back at his family’s holiday home is a relief because it means things like ‘proper hygiene’ and ‘no wild animals’, but it’s also sweltering here. 

Momo starts to scurry up the tree, which brings hope to Sokka’s eyes, but then Momo gets distracted by what Zuko hopes is fruit and not a bumblefly hive. 

“I’ve got it,” he says, and then strips off his tunic before he makes his way up the tree.

It’s not an easy tree to climb, but he’s done it before, when he and Azula used to do things like climb trees together. The branches are too sparse for a usual climb, but it’s easier than it used to be to jump from one to another. He grasps the branch above him with his hands and kicks himself into a swing until he’s standing on it. 

Below him, Suki bursts into very sudden laughter. Zuko frowns but focuses on getting to the boomerang. 

After a moment, Sokka and Katara start laughing, too. Their laughter starts more hesitant, and then quickly becomes hysterical.

“What’s so _funny_?” Zuko snaps.

“Yeah,” Toph agrees, “what’s funny? Did Zuko do something embarrassing? _How embarrassing was it?_ I need details!”

Suki snorts, and then calms herself down. “No, it’s not-- Zuko took off his shirt.”

Offended, Zuko swings to the next branch up, and then crosses his arms to cover himself as best he can. “Why is that embarrassing?” he asks.

Sure, there’s the scar on his clavicle (which is slowly, slowly healing, revealing shadows of what look like they will one day be five distinctive marks). But aside from that, he’s in better shape than he’s been since before he was a refugee. 

Katara and Sokka dissolve into giggles again.

“It’s not embarrassing, Zuko,” Suki explains, raising her voice more than she really needs to for the distance. “Katara and Sokka just had _the exact same expression_ on their faces while they were watching you show off, that’s all!”

It takes a moment for Zuko to realise what she means, and then he feels the heat radiate from his face as he blushes. 

“This is so much better!” Toph shrieks. “You were checking out Sparky? How hot is he, exactly? _I need details!_ ”

“You don’t have a problem with that?” Sokka asks, his voice quieter, clearly aimed at Suki and not Zuko. “I really didn’t mean to…”

“What? No,” Suki replies. “As long as you still like girls, I think you just solidified that your type is ‘pretty and dangerous’. I can live with that.”

Zuko snarls. “I am _not pretty_ ,” he insists.

“How did you even hear that?” Katara asks. “Don’t you only have one good ear?”

“It’s a very good ear!” Zuko insists, flustered and frustrated, and then grabs the boomerang and flings it to the ground. “Now can I come down without you all laughing?”

The answer to that is apparently ‘no’, but at least the Water Tribe siblings are apologising through their laughter. To be honest, _they_ sound pretty embarrassed, and Zuko finds himself chuckling alongside them. But it’s a great view from up here, and Toph finds his refusal to come down hilarious, so Zuko sits and looks out by himself for a while. 

The day cools down. It feels nice on his skin, even though he wishes he’d never removed the stupid tunic. 

After a while, Aang airbends his way to join Zuko on the branch.

“Sifu Hotman,” Aang says, executing a slight bow. “The Water Siblings would like to extend their apologies for, as Toph put it, ‘perving on you and skeeving you out’.”

Zuko snorts. “I’m not angry at them,” he says. “I was just taking a moment to myself.”

Aang winces. “Should I leave you…?”

“No,” Zuko says, because he thinks that they’re something approaching friends now. “You can stay.”

Aang clears his throat. “Actually, there’s something we wanted to ask you.”

Zuko doesn’t need to ask who ‘we’ is. He’s the only non-family spending his time with a soul family. It’s nice, sometimes, to watch them interact with one another. There’s no sliver of doubt that they care deeply about one another. It makes Zuko wonder about his own soul family, and whether he’ll survive the war and find them. Whether they’ll be as close as this family is. 

(It doesn’t make Zuko feel left out, because he was already the odd one out. Not being their family doesn’t really make that big of a difference.)

“What would you like to ask?”

Aang smiles. “The monks used to keep records of our marks,” he explains, “to help us find one another. They would put us in temples together if they found matches.”

“That was kind of them,” Zuko says, because he’s slowly realising that everything he was taught about the Air Nomads was wrong. His own family burned him regularly from when he was too small a child to carry memories. It’s not difficult for him to realise, now, that the Air Nomads had been much more civilised.

“We were wondering if the Fire Nation did anything similar.”

Zuko frowns. “I don’t think so. Why?” 

Aang looks away from Zuko, toward the skyline. He looks a little sad, and Zuko doesn’t know how to help, so he just listens. “There was meant to be six of us,” Aang explains. “But one of us died. We think they were Fire Nation.”

Zuko nods. He wants to say something comforting, but as per usual, he can’t figure out _what_ would be comforting. So instead, he asks: “Why do you think they were Fire Nation?”

“The mark has a flame,” Aang says. “Plus, it would make sense, since my waterbending and earthbending teachers--” He cuts himself off and looks at Zuko with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean that we don’t want _you_ here, though…”

Zuko tries for a smile. It probably doesn’t work. “It’s okay,” he tries to assure the kid. “You think your soulmate was supposed to be your firebending teacher. We didn’t exactly get here easily.”

Aang relaxes, and then deflates. “But you don’t think that the Fire Nation has any records.”

Zuko shakes his head. “Why do you want to know, anyway? If they died?”

“I still want to know who they were,” Aang says. “The others agree. They were ours. Even if we never got to meet them, they were _ours_.”

Something in Zuko aches. 

“I’m sorry that I can’t help you,” he apologises, quietly. 

Aang nods, and then offers Zuko a sad smile before he looks out to the horizon again. And then, after a few moments, he looks back. “Well, maybe you could help us decipher it?”

“Decipher it?” 

“Yeah, Sokka and Katara are apparently in a lifelong dispute about whether or not it’s a campfire,” Aang explains. “Maybe if it was, it meant they would have been the one cooking!” 

Zuko tries to smile again, and then nods. 

It’s not immodest to show soul marks, but it’s considered a reasonably intimate thing to do. People usually only wear them openly if they’re desperate to catch the attention of their soulmates, and so far, this soul family haven’t had theirs on display. Zuko spares one brief moment to think that he should be more careful about taking his tunic off once his marks become properly visible again, and then-- 

Aang shifts over to show Zuko the back of his shoulder, and shifts his clothing out of the way.

The world stops. 

“It’s kind of annoying that it’s behind me,” Aang admits. “I haven’t been able to stare at it the way that everyone else has! But I didn’t think it looked like a campfire until Katara said so, and I can look at hers. I think she’s right. What do you think?”

Zuko isn’t breathing.

It isn’t a campfire. It’s a pair of dao swords, engulfed in flame. 

But more importantly than that, it’s sitting in the centre of a line of symbols: a semicircle with another inset (it’s a fan, Zuko realises), a boomerang (not a crescent moon), a waterbending symbol (a set of swirls), and an eye with a faded iris. 

Which means that the dao swords and the fire-- 

Zuko forces himself to breathe, because if he doesn’t, Aang is going to notice.

“Campfire?” Aang asks, shifting his clothing back into place.

Zuko feels like he’s far away from his body. He’s breathing perfectly normally, now, and he can’t feel anything. But his mouth lifts into a brief smile and he says: “It could be.”

Aang slumps, and then nods. “Well, thanks for your help anyway.” He asks Zuko something else, and Zuko apparently answers sufficiently, because he airbends down to the ground and waves upwards before leaving.

Zuko isn’t sure how long it is before he comes back to himself. But when he does, it’s with one startlingly clear thought:

_They can never know._

The pieces come together. They think their soulmate is dead because marks turn to scars once they’re no longer on the soulmate. Usually this is because of cremation or disintegration after death, but for Zuko, it’s because of the burning. They’ve thought for their _entire lives_ that this soulmate was dead, and they’ve come to terms with that. Zuko can’t ruin that now. He can’t let them know that their missing soulmate is the person who chased them around the world, who tried to capture Aang and give him to Ozai, who betrayed them in Ba Sing Se and almost caused their deaths again. Suki is the person he has betrayed the least, and he burned down her village!

It is better to have a dead soulmate than Zuko. This is clear. They have each other; they don't need Zuko.

Zuko allows himself to grieve this only for a moment. He had only just started to consider the possibility of finding his soul family, and now he knows that they were never going to be a family, and it is all Zuko’s fault. He had the potential for something pure and beautiful, and he ruined it. Just like he always does. 

And then he pulls himself together. 

They think that their soulmate is dead because the mark is scarred over. The mark is scarred over because of the burning. Which means that Zuko’s brief freedom from the burning is over. 

He doesn’t have a mirror with him, but Zuko also isn’t wearing a shirt, and he’s lucky that nobody’s looked closely enough at the scar on his collarbone to notice the shadows of black growing on it. He has to do this now so that nobody sees, and so that his dual swords and fire don’t start to darken on their skin. 

Zuko takes a deep breath, calls fire to his palm, and closes his eyes. It’s more rough this way, but he’s burned the marks away enough to do it on feel alone. 

The flames lick his skin, and Zuko bites down on his lip to keep from crying out.


	4. Chapter 4

Zuko maybe overshoots it a little on the burning. In his defense, he’s used to looking in a mirror while doing this, finding the shadows of black and steadily searing them away. This time, he does the burning at the top of a tree, in something that might be described as a moment of panic, and has no way of telling when the marks are gone. 

Zuko maybe goes a little too far. 

It’s harder to climb down than it was to climb up, because he pulls at the skin of the burn every time he moves his left arm. He makes his way down carefully and slowly, with regular stops to hold onto the tree and breathe through the greying edges of his vision. Eventually, his feet find the ground, and he gingerly pulls his tunic back on. It feels like weeks ago that the Water Tribe siblings were giggling in teenage embarrassment over him being shirtless. 

Zuko tries to walk past the group toward the room he’s been sleeping in, but he finds them trying and failing to build a campfire without him. Zuko’s eyes catch on wood, and his mind catches on the glimpse of his own symbol that he’d seen on the back of Aang’s shoulder. Each of them have that symbol, faded into a scar.

Katara looks up at Zuko with something approaching shame. “I swear this used to be easier,” she claims, huffy. 

“That’s what happens when you lazy platybats over-rely on Sparky’s sparks,” Toph says with a sense of gravity. 

Katara glares at her. “So then why don’t _you_ make the fire?”

Toph shrugs. “I’m a happy lazy platybat,” she admits, and then snaps her fingers at him. “Sparky! Make sparks! Good Sparky.”

Zuko glances to the heavens like Agni might bless him with patience, and then approaches the pile of logs. He holds out his right hand and lets his fire catch, and then stays for a moment to ensure that it’s healthy. 

He goes to walk away, and Katara says: “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“I’m not hungry,” Zuko says, because it’s true, and also because he needs to leave his-- _the_ soul family behind. He can’t be here right now. 

Zuko has been staying in a room with a mirror. He honestly hadn’t picked it out because of the mirror, but it was probably a subconscious decision, since he usually needs to seek out a mirror for the burnings. He pulls his tunic to one side to get a good look at the burn, and winces. 

Well. The marks probably won’t be coming back for a while, at least. 

He’d wanted to wash, anyway, and the good thing about staying here is an abundance of clean water. Zuko bathes with hesitant movements, trying to clean the wound without hurting himself any further. He doesn’t have access to the kinds of creams that he used to apply, and kind of regrets the times that he had used the creams in less serious scenarios, because he expects that the small comfort _then_ has softened him to toughing through the pain _now_. 

When he’s dry and changing into clean clothing (another benefit of staying at this site), Momo pops his head around the door and chirps at him.

Zuko frowns until the winged lemur disappears around the doorway again, and then he resumes dressing. He’s barely finished when Momo returns, flying into the room and dropping something into Zuko’s hands.

It’s a single chopstick. Zuko blinks at it. Momo lands on Zuko’s good shoulder and chatters again. 

“Why are you giving me this?” Zuko asks, holding up the chopstick. He’s not an idiot; he does know that Momo can’t understand him, but Zuko also has no clue what to do with this ‘gift’. Momo chatters again, and then takes flight. 

Zuko is readying himself to meditate when Momo returns, this time depositing something small and shiny onto Zuko’s lap. It seems to be an earring. 

Zuko sighs. “Please stop,” he requests from Momo, who tilts his head and stares at Zuko with wide eyes. Zuko tries really, really hard not to find it adorable. He fails, and scoffs, and then leaves the room to attempt to find the owner of the earring. 

He finds the soul family in something of a pile by the campfire. 

The sight makes Zuko’s mouth lift into a smile against his own will. It looks like they piled onto Sokka, who’s lying flat on his back with Suki tucked under his arm. Toph is either sitting on the two of them or somehow squished between their waists, with her legs over Suki’s middle. She’s leaning back against Aang, who definitely actually _is_ sitting on Sokka’s chest, and Katara is lying down with her head on her brother’s leg, letting Aang play with her hair. 

It looks like it can’t possibly be comfortable, but everyone looks content in their pile. 

It couldn’t be clearer that Zuko is intruding, but they don’t react that way. Toph hears him first, and grins in his direction. “Sparky!” she says, and he approaches them slowly. 

“Hey, Zuko,” Suki says, craning her head to smile at him. “We saved food for you.”

Zuko makes himself a bowl, and then obeys Toph’s insistent waving until he’s sitting next to them. Toph immediately places her feet in Zuko’s lap, and Zuko lifts up his bowl to save it. 

“Is this anyone’s earring?” he asks, lifting the earring with his other hand. He winces, then, because that movement was too quick for the wound. 

Suki looks up at it, and then snatches it from his hand. “It is now. Sokka, are your ears pierced? Can I pierce your ears?” 

Sokka refuses and Suki badgers him about it, and it takes a moment for Katara to ask: “Where did you find the earring?”

Momo decides that this is an excellent moment to demonstrate where Zuko found the earring by dumping a handful of pebbles into his lap, barely missing Zuko’s dinner. Zuko glares at the winged lemur, and Momo tilts his head again.

“The Avatar’s lemur brought it to me, after bringing me a chopstick,” Zuko explains. “And now a bunch of pebbles. Really round pebbles. Did you bring me these because of how round they are?” 

Aang laughs. “Momo, why aren’t you bringing _me_ any round pebbles?” 

Katara propels herself into sitting, which almost upsets Aang’s balance, but he airbends himself back to safety. Sokka lets out a quiet ‘ _oof_ ’. 

“Are you sick?” Katara asks, scrambling over to sit in front of Zuko. She lifts a hand and presses it to Zuko’s forehead, and then huffs. “You’re really warm, but I can’t tell if that’s normal for you firebenders.” 

“Katara,” Suki says in a whisper-shout. “Katara. _Tell him he’s too hot and he needs to take his shirt off_.” 

Toph and Sokka shriek with laughter, and Katara waterbends a flick at Suki. “That’s not funny!” she insists. “Sokka! You were _just as bad_ , you’re not allowed to find it funny!” 

“Yeah, guys,” Aang says, voice serious and sad. “You shouldn’t pick on Zuko. It’s not fair.” The laughter breaks for a moment as everyone tries to figure out what’s happening. “It’s not Zuko’s fault he’s _such a Hotman._ ”

Katara groans her displeasure, but the rest of the soul family shriek into laughter again. Zuko knows that he’s blushing, but he hides it behind a glare. 

“Why did you think I’m sick?” he asks, doing his best to distract from _that_ conversation. 

Momo flies to and fro, apparently searching the area. Katara watches him. “I’ve only ever seen him bring us random things when we’re sick,” she says. “But maybe he just likes you?” 

“Are you sick?” Toph asks, apparently having recovered from Aang’s truly terrible pun. 

Momo must have been able to sense that Zuko is injured. He does his best not to shift his arm, trying not to give the injury away. “No,” he replies. “I’m fine.” 

Toph’s head snaps towards him at that, and she frowns deeply. 

Katara seems to take his word for it, though, and settles herself next to him. “We were talking about what we’re going to do after-- after,” she says, her voice gentling at the end. Presumably she’s either remembering that there’s a war to fight before ‘after’. Or perhaps she’s recalling that the war will include the murder of Zuko’s father. “We’re going to want to stay together, but we’re also all from different places.” 

“We’ll need to rebuild,” Aang says. “I’ll want… I’ll want to do something to honour the Air Nomads. And all of our homes need help. We could travel between them. But…” 

“But what, Aang?” Katara prompts him. She leans gently against Zuko’s side, and Zuko wants to shift away because it’s his injured side. But it’s also nice, sitting here with Toph’s dirty feet in his lap and Katara warm against him. It’s almost like he belongs here. 

Zuko knows that he doesn’t, not really. But for a moment, he lets himself pretend. 

“But the Fire Nation is going to need the most rebuilding. It’s going to need to go through a whole upheaval. The Avatar will be needed there. And Zuko's going to have to stay there anyway, right?”

“Then that’s where we’ll settle,” Toph says, like that decides it. “I don’t care where we are. I just want to be together.”

“And,” Sokka starts before hesitating. The others fall silent, waiting. “And if that’s where they were from. Our sixth. It would be nice to feel close to them.” Zuko’s chest hurts. “We can help rebuild their nation, make it better in their honour.”

Zuko’s chest _aches_. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t deserve this, shouldn’t be treading on this family’s time together. 

“I think that’s a great idea, Sokka,” Suki says, and the family falls silent. 

Until Momo approaches and hesitantly offers Zuko one of Sokka’s shoes.


	5. Chapter 5

They go to war, and they win.

It has a price.

When Katara sees Zuko go down for her, jump in front of her and take a chest full of lightning, she thinks the word _mine_ as she bursts into action. She fights, and she fights, and she wins.

Zuko comes in and out of consciousness. He’s awake for long enough for Katara to inform him that they won. Aang did it. Zuko is going to be the Fire Lord, and together, the team are going to rebuild the world. 

She dashes between Zuko, who’s healing from the lightning, and her brother, who’s healing from a broken leg. Katara heal up the cuts and bruises on the rest of the team, and when her father joins them, she heals his broken nose, too.

“Katara,” Hakoda says softly, lowering her hands.

“I know,” Katara replies. “I _can’t_ stop. I can’t.” 

She looks over at Zuko, who’s pale but basically sitting up. His heartbeat isn’t quite as steady as it should be, and she doesn’t know if he’ll ever fully heal from that. 

Zuko did that for _her_. 

“You need to rest,” Hakoda insists, and then he raises his voice. “You all need to rest. You can stay here if you want, but I want to see you all under covers and at least trying to sleep.”

Aang wrinkles his nose. “But we just saved the world! Shouldn’t we be celebrating?”

“ _Sleep_ ,” Hakoda insists in his daddest of dad voices. 

Sokka clearly also hears the dad voice. “You’re not _everyone’s father_ , you know!”

Katara watches Hakoda’s eyes track across the room. “Actually, since you’re my children’s soul family, I think that _does_ make me everyone’s father.” 

Sokka groans. “Nooo,” he complains, burying his face in his hands. 

“Not Zuko,” Toph says, lifting a foot from where she’s perched on the edge of Zuko’s bed to _nudge Katara’s patient in the side_. Zuko grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t stop her. Katara glares and resumes healing him. He’s doing better from the lightning, but there’s still the matter of his heart and the injuries littered across his body. “And I’m pretty sure Zuko’s Fire Lord now, so he outranks you.”

“Not Zuko, huh,” Hakoda says under his breath, nonsensically. 

Zuko is barely conscious, but this time, Katara’s pretty sure it’s exhaustion. “I don’t outrank your father, even if he’s not really your father,” Zuko mumbles. “Everyone listen to soul dad. Sleep time.” 

Which is how they’re given orders by their father _and_ the Fire Lord, and the group eventually agree to sleep. Hakoda goes to keep watch with the guards. Katara keeps working for several long minutes, flitting between Zuko and Sokka, before curling up on the edge of the bed. She makes sure to sleep with Toph between her and Zuko, so that she’s not too tempted to keep working. 

Katara drifts in and out of sleep. Every few hours, she checks on everyone, pulling up her energy to heal any small injury she can find. She’s pretty sure that once morning dawns, they’re all going to be healthier than they’ve been since before the war started. All except Katara, who’ll need to sleep for a week, but it’s a small price to pay. 

She can’t do anything about Zuko’s face because the scar is too old, which makes Katara deeply sad. But it’s also probably best not to mess with anyone’s face without their explicit permission anyway. And now that Zuko isn’t a terrifying force of nature, the scar speaks more to his resilience than anything else. 

Katara lies back down, letting Toph snuffle into her side. Her family is safe. Her family is safe. Katara lifts her cuff to look at her mark, just to remind herself that her family is as whole as it can be, sleeping in this room in a palace.

She sits up, abruptly. It shakes Toph, who swears at her. 

The campfire is a deep grey.


	6. Chapter 6

Zuko wakes to a cacophony of sound. 

He also wakes expecting to feel like crap, but he feels surprisingly fresh. Katara’s healing must have worked wonders. He worries, briefly, that she might have worn herself out, but then he’s distracted by her yelling.

“Huh?” Zuko asks against the wall of sound. 

“I _know_ it makes no sense, I’m _saying_ that it makes no sense,” Katara says, waving her arm in the air. 

Suki has her skirts lifted all the way to the top of her thigh. “You’re right,” she says, sounding as tired and bewildered as Zuko feels. 

Aang inspects Suki’s thigh (what?), and then turns around and scrabbles at his robes. “My back! The back of my shoulder! What does it look like?” 

Zuko knows what’s on the back of Aang’s shoulder. 

His stomach falls. 

“What’s happening?” he croaks, and Toph turns an unseeing and unimpressed gaze on him. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, Sparky,” she says, waving at her eyes. “Apparently something changed about the mark overnight.”

Zuko frowns. The dread deepens. “Marks don’t change.”

“They sure as shit don’t,” Toph agrees. 

“It’s grey,” Sokka explains, apparently realising that there’s an unmarked person and a blind person in the room. “The campfire. Which is _not a campfire and is definitely badass flaming swords_. It’s not a scar anymore.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Katara says again, and she’s still kind of yelling, but she sounds breathless and full of joy. “Marks don’t go from scars to black, that’s… they go the opposite way. This doesn’t make sense.” 

Aang jumps up and down, reaching heights no non-airbender could manage. “Oh, oh,” he says with a hand in the air, like he’s in a classroom. “What if it’s like me? What if we all just _thought_ Campfire was dead, but they were actually just caught in ice or something?”

“ _Your_ mark was never a scar,” Sokka says. “Our marks seemed happy that yours was still going.”

Zuko has that feeling again. The floaty feeling, like he isn’t associated with his body. Like he’s standing outside of himself and watching. And to his very vague horror, he realises that he’s lifted a hand to press at the scar on his clavicle. 

It doesn’t hurt to press on. But he’d burned himself again just a few days ago. 

Zuko’s eyes move to Katara. 

Healing. She’s been healing him. Not just the damage from Azula’s lightning, but… 

Zuko comes back to himself with a flash of panic. 

“Did they come back from the dead?” Suki asks carefully, as if she’s aware that this isn’t likely, but she’s also aware that it needs to be asked. “Maybe they were in the spirit world?” 

“Aang’s arrow didn’t fade when he was in the spirit world,” Katara says. “I was watching it. It actually makes more sense for Campfire to have been dead. Which is not a great sign for this making any sense!” 

Zuko could tell them. He could clear this up. 

He can’t make himself speak. 

If he doesn’t tell them, will they figure it out? Will they start looking? Can he get away and burn the marks away? Will they let that go?

He could tell them. It would be a disappointment of sorts, because he’s never been anything but a disappointment, but at least they won’t have to wonder. Is that worth it? 

Aang is still waving his arms around and ranting about the spirit world. Suki is biting at her nails, which Zuko has never seen her do before. Katara is listening to Aang, but she looks impatient, and also like she really needs to sleep for another full day. Toph is frowning at nothing, but that isn’t surprising.

Sokka is looking at Zuko.

Zuko looks away, trying his best to buy time by not looking guilty or suspicious. He watches Aang’s theory play out.

“... And then Campfire could have been vomited out, and that could be where they get the campfire from!” 

“Flaming swords,” Sokka corrects Aang, but he’s still staring at Zuko. “They’re flaming swords.”

Katara scoffs. “That hardly matters right now, Sokka!”

“Actually,” Sokka says slowly, “I think it might matter kind of a lot.” 

“When did anyone last see it?” Suki asks, poking at her thigh. “Maybe it would help if we narrowed down when it happened…”

Suki keeps talking, but Zuko can barely hear her. Something is dawning slowly on Sokka’s face, and Zuko doesn’t like it at all. Zuko shakes his head unthinkingly, and then makes himself stop. Sokka visibly draws a deep breath, and his voice isn’t loud, but it still cuts through the room as he asks: “Zuko?”

And then Zuko is the centre of attention, which is not okay, it’s not okay, Zuko needs to get out of here. 

He tears his eyes away from Sokka, away from the horror that is dawning, because he can’t watch, and he looks to the door. The door is behind Sokka and Aang. He can’t get there. He’s trapped. 

“Zuko?” Katara asks, and she sounds small and a little bit lost. 

“I need to go,” Zuko hears himself say through numb lips. “I need to-- go.”

And then Katara gasps, and it’s a wet sound. 

“Flaming swords,” she says. “Sokka was right. They’re-- You’re the only person I’ve ever seen firebend using swords, they’re-- How does that…?”

“Uh, it can’t be Zuko,” Aang points out, eyebrows raised as he gestures at Zuko, who is frozen on the bed. “He’s right here? Why would his mark have been scarred over?”

Zuko realises that his palm is still pressed against the scar on his collarbone. He slowly lowers his hand, as if making sudden movements will attract attention, when he already has far too much attention.

Fight or flight, his brain suggests. 

He wets his numb lips. “I should go,” he says again, and sounds distant to his own ears. 

Katara’s face falls. Zuko doesn’t even realise that he’s watching her until he sees it happen. She was so full of hope before, when they had been discussing the possibility that their sixth was still alive. Her reaction to the greying mark had been of hesitant, confused joy. And now she looks at him, and all Zuko sees is disappointment. 

“It’s you,” Katara says, her voice flat. “It’s you, you’re Campfire, and you just… weren’t going to tell us.”

“What, no-- How is that _possible_?” Aang asks, and he’s a step behind because it doesn’t matter how it’s possible. What matters is that Zuko should have issued a denial and he hasn’t. That’s what Katara sees, and now her face is drawn in bitter disappointment. 

Zuko might throw up. He remembers the look on her face when she had told him that she didn’t trust him not to hurt Aang, even if everyone else did. He remembers watching her walk away in the cave, when he had come so close to leaving _with_ her, and instead… instead, he turned on them and left Aang for dead. Aang, who’s just a kid. Aang, who’s never wanted to hurt anyone in his life. 

There isn’t a single person in this room that Zuko hasn’t hurt, betrayed, and disappointed. And that includes himself. 

Zuko stands up, because he needs to. He can’t sit on this bed surrounded by the people who could have been his soul family, had he made different (better) choices. He can’t watch the same disappointment fall on all their faces. 

Zuko flees. 

Nobody follows.

* * *

In Zuko’s defense, he has a nation to run. He’s swept away to dress more appropriately and then presented to his uncle, who looks harried and jolly, clearly having spent the night making arrangements and drinking a truly absurd amount of tea. 

“Nephew!” Uncle Iroh greets him, standing with his arms open. “I have much to catch you up on. I hope you have slept well.” 

Something in Zuko bends until it breaks. Uncle Iroh is here. Zuko will be okay. He’ll survive this, survive losing what could have been his soul family, survive learning to be a Fire Lord, fixing a broken nation and a broken blood family. He’ll manage it, because his uncle is here. 

To Uncle Iroh’s clear surprise, Zuko falls into his embrace. 

“It’s good to see you, Uncle,” Zuko says once he thinks his voice won’t shake. What he means is _I don’t know if I could do this without you_ , but he can’t quite bring himself to say it. He thinks that Iroh hears it anyway. 

Uncle Iroh’s arms are firm around him. “I am so proud of you, my nephew,” he says in a low voice, words meant only for Zuko. “A father could not be prouder of a son.” 

Zuko nods, and then pulls away, because if he doesn’t he might do something truly embarrassing. “There is much work to do,” he predicts, and Iroh nods sagely. 

“And much tea to drink,” he adds, a twinkle in his eyes. 

* * *

Iroh can clearly tell that there’s something wrong, but he doesn’t press the issue. And Zuko has so much to do, so many people to speak with and decisions to make, that he’s almost able to push the tangled mess of his emotions down deep enough to ignore them. At one point late in the day, he finds himself in front of a mirror, and he pulls his robes aside to see what has happened to his burn scar. 

It’s not healed, exactly. It’s a scar that has existed as long as Zuko has memories. It’s still a deep scar, dark red and purple, but the most recent layer of the wound has been healed. Katara is truly talented, and it has truly doomed Zuko.

His marks have never been this visible. Zuko can see now that there are five of them. If he looks closely enough, he might even be able to figure out which is which. 

Zuko stops himself from looking that closely. Instead, he looks at his own face, and he ponders whether or not he should burn them away. Maybe it would be easier for everyone if Zuko was unmarked again, and if his symbol on their skin faded to a scar. Maybe it would be easier for everyone to move on. Maybe they would even stay, remain his friends, albeit from a safe distance. 

Zuko doesn’t want to burn the marks away, though. He wants to be done with the searing, regular pain. He wants the marks instead, wants to be able to look at them and know that his friends are safe, wants to look at them and remember that he once had the potential to be part of something.

But that’s selfish, isn’t it? To force them all to bear his mark, all to spare Zuko some pain? 

He’s called away before he has to make a decision. Being grateful for this is selfish, too.


	7. Chapter 7

Zuko has a room made up for himself. He imagines that the soul family has left the palace by now, but he doesn’t want to ask after them and know for sure. And he doesn’t want to return to the room they had spent the night in, doesn’t want to feel how cold and empty it will seem once he’s alone. 

Zuko is accompanied by guards to his new rooms. Uncle Iroh has replaced the palace guards, because they can’t be sure who will be loyal. Unfortunately, he made the unilateral decision when Zuko was unconscious to replace the guards with Kyoshi Warriors, at least for the time being. None of them are Suki, and Zuko isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. 

Hakoda is outside his room. Zuko squares his shoulders, assuming that Hakoda is here for a purpose Zuko won’t like, but the chief simply looks Zuko over and nods. That’s when Zuko realises that Hakoda is just guarding his rooms again, like he had the night prior. 

Once Zuko is through the door, he realises that Hakoda’s presence should have served as a warning. 

“We need to talk,” Sokka says, arms crossed against his chest. 

Toph is standing by the window, facing away from them all. Suki and Aang are both sitting on the bed, which is technically a huge breach of protocol, but they’d basically all piled into one bed last night, hadn’t they? Katara seems to have been pacing, but she’s stopped now, facing Zuko with her face drawn in and her hands fisted at her side.

“You’re here,” Zuko finds himself saying. It’s a stupid statement, completely unnecessary, and he has to keep himself from wincing. 

“We have questions,” Suki says carefully, staring up at him with wide eyes. 

Anger flairs. “This is an interrogation,” Zuko realises. 

Suki’s eyes narrow. “We have _questions_ ,” she repeats. “If you want us to leave afterwards, then we will. But we think you owe us some answers.”

Zuko hates this, he _hates_ it, but he knows that she’s right. He owes them this much. He nods, and then reaches up to release his topknot and place the hairstick on the table next to him. It gives him something to look at that isn’t the soul family, but they don’t speak until he’s done and looking up again. “Okay,” he says, finally realising that they’re waiting for his assent. 

“How long have you known?” Sokka asks. “You obviously already knew this morning. Have you always known?”

Zuko swallows. “No, I… I didn’t know until Aang showed me his marks.” 

There’s a pause, and everyone looks to Toph, who nods once. 

Great. Toph is going to be assessing his answers. This really is an interrogation. 

Zuko thinks about sitting down, thinks about putting a wall behind him so that he can be sure that he can see everything that happens in the room. Ultimately, he stays in place with the door behind him. It’s not much of an escape route, because Hakoda is outside (blocking his escape - guarding him from leaving, not guarding from danger entering). But it’s something.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Aang asks, sounding small. 

“I didn’t…” Zuko struggles to find the words. He doesn’t think he even really made a decision when Aang was there, and then once Aang had left the tree, it seemed so obvious that Zuko shouldn’t say anything. “I thought it was better if I didn’t.”

“You thought it was--” Sokka starts, and his arms snap from their folded position. Zuko flinches, but Sokka is apparently just flailing in confused anger. “Who _does_ that? Who just thinks ‘well, I know I’m spending all my time with my soul family, but I probably _shouldn’t tell them about that_ ’?”

Suki clears her throat. Sokka turns to look at her, and so Zuko does, too. 

Suki sits up straighter. She glances around the room. “I knew,” she says simply. When it apparently doesn’t convey what she intends it to, she adds: “Not about Zuko, I mean when we first met on Kyoshi Island. Sokka and Katara and Aang. I knew that you were my soul family, and I didn’t tell you.”

There’s a pause while Sokka splutters. Katara moves closer to Suki. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks. For Suki, her voice is gentle. There’s none of the disappointment and bitterness she’s been projecting in Zuko’s direction. 

“I saw the marks when Sokka was changing into the Kyoshi dress, and I didn’t know what to say,” she admits. “And then… the Fire Nation attacked.” _Zuko_ attacked. Zuko winces. “And I realised that I had to stay and protect my people. I had to stay with the warriors. I was their leader, I couldn’t just leave. And so I didn’t say anything.” She ducks her head a little. “I realised this was a mistake after you were gone, but it was too late by then.”

“But you did tell us,” Sokka says, and his voice has gentled, too. “When we saw each other again. You didn’t just keep _hiding_ it from us,” he adds, turning a frown on Zuko. 

Suki looks up at Zuko. “I understand that it’s not easy to say something when only you know,” she says. “I do understand that. What I don’t understand is why you let us think you were dead.”

“And _how_ ,” Aang intercepts. “How did you manage that?”

Zuko doesn’t know how to express why he didn’t tell them, mostly because he thinks it should be obvious. The disappointment at finding him should be the answer in itself. But at least he knows how to answer Aang’s question, so he nods. 

“I didn’t have marks,” he explains. “Or I did, when I was born, but they were burned off me.” 

He’s looking at Aang as he says this, and so he sees very specifically when Aang goes from looking puzzled to looking like he’s going to be sick. 

Zuko used to read anything he could get his hands on about soulmates, and so he knows that there are slightly different visions of the marks in different cultures. Even in the Fire Nation, the idea of burning off the marks is not something that Zuko has come across elsewhere. The Air Nomads were particularly reverent, and considered them to be holy. 

“That’s-- They _couldn’t_ , that’s,” Aang says, looking around at the others as if someone could contradict Zuko’s story. 

Eventually, Aang looks to Toph. Toph nods. Zuko isn’t lying.

Aang looks like he’s going to cry. 

There’s a pause in the room, and Zuko wonders if this is the end of the interrogation. They know how this situation came to be now. Suki had said that they’ll leave when their questions have been answered.

“You’re not lying,” Toph says, still not facing them, “but that also doesn’t make sense. If they burned them off when you were little, how did you know that they matched Aang’s marks?” 

Zuko draws in a breath. His chest doesn’t feel as tight anymore. He’s moved from animal panic at the idea of this happening to acceptance. Zuko just has to move through this conversation. That’s all he has to do. 

“My mother drew them,” he explains. “She gave me the drawing before she… before she left.” 

Katara shakes her head. She starts pacing again. “No,” she states, and Zuko frowns at her denial. “It came back last night, Zuko. That’s because I was healing you, right? But I can’t heal scars. I can’t even heal the scar on your face, let alone something you’ve had since you were a kid.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Zuko presses a hand to his scar again, fingers pressing down and not feeling the usual pain. “Marks can’t be burned away for long. They keep coming back, I-- I don’t know why, exactly. So they would need to be burned away again every few weeks for maintenance. I think you just healed the latest burn and they started coming back, that’s all.”

Katara has stopped pacing. She stares at Zuko with wide, wide eyes. 

“ _That’s all?”_ she asks, incredulous. “You-- They burned you over and over again to-- Why did they even _do_ that? Why would they do it in the first place?”

Zuko frowns, confused by her confusion. “Because I was a Fire Prince. I had to be loyal to my blood family and the nation. They couldn’t… They said that I couldn’t be loyal to them and also to a soul family.”

And ultimately they were right about that. Zuko chose to be a traitor. He chose to be loyal to his soul family instead of his blood family without even needing the marks to lead him there. And he doesn’t regret that, not for a moment. He wouldn’t have regretted it if they’d lost, either. 

Katara presses a hand to her mouth, and just stares and stares at him. Zuko looks away, uncomfortable, but there isn’t much better to be found on the faces of the soul family. 

“That’s why you were injured,” Toph says suddenly. She sounds small, more like a twelve-year-old girl than she’s ever sounded. “That night you got hurt and didn’t tell anyone, but Momo knew. You’d just been hopping around in that tree, so you weren’t hurt before. I figured you just didn’t want to say anything, that maybe you’d caught yourself on the way down, but.” She shrugs. “But you were burning yourself.” 

Aang draws in a shaking breath. It occurs to Zuko that there are two kids here, and even though they’d saved the world and fought a war, they still maybe shouldn’t be talking about this. “You kept burning yourself?” Aang asks. 

“If I didn’t, they would come back,” Zuko explains.

“So _let them come back_ ,” Sokka bursts. “That’s not-- That’s not _okay_ , Zuko, what they did to you wasn’t _okay_ , you can’t just--” 

“Please don’t do it again,” Suki interrupts, voice urgent. “Just let them grow back. We’ll leave if you want us to, you don’t have to see us again, but don’t get rid of the marks.” 

Zuko nods. He’s relieved to be free of the burnings. Wherever the soul family goes in the world, Zuko will be able to look at his marks and know that they’re alive. That will be enough. That will have to be enough.

Toph stomps over from the window and throws her arms around Zuko’s middle. Zuko flinches, and then goes very still. “Uh…?”

“I wanted to punch you,” Toph says from where her face is pressed against his ribs, “but I think that hurting you might be a bad idea right now.” 

That explanation doesn’t really help Zuko to understand why she’s hugging him, but he lets his arm fall across her back, and then hesitantly pats her messy hair. 

Toph snorts. 

“You know it doesn’t matter, right?” she asks, and before Zuko can ask, she adds: “That you have our marks. That we have yours. It doesn’t _matter_.”

Zuko nods, and his chest aches terribly. It shouldn’t hurt to hear things that he knows are true, he tells himself. He’s going to have to toughen up if he’s really going to run this nation. 

“Yeah,” he replies, quietly. “I know.” 

“I don’t think you do,” Aang says, airbending his way across the room to stand in front of Zuko and Toph. “What Toph means is that you were ours anyway. Even if you hadn’t been our sixth, you would still have been our family.”

Zuko blinks, surprised. He tries to process that statement, but it doesn’t fit into his world at all. 

“We were going to stay here for you,” Suki points out. “Even before all of this. Don’t you remember? We talked about it that night by the fire. Zuko has to stay in the Fire Nation, so that’s where we’ll settle.” 

“You wanted to stay in the Fire Nation because of me,” Zuko corrects her, and then shakes his head. “I mean, because of your sixth. Who you didn’t know was me. You wanted to help rebuild the Fire Nation for them, it wasn’t because of _me_.” 

Toph somehow manages to elbow him in the side without dislodging herself. “Stop being an idiot,” she says. “Yeah, it was a nice idea to rebuild Campfire’s home. But we wanted to be here to be with you. Because you’re _ours_. Mark or not, destiny or not.” 

Zuko nods, accepting her words. “But now you’re going.”

Katara draws in a loud, shaky breath. It’s only then that Zuko realises that she’s been quiet for a long time. He looks up at her, to find that her eyes are shining with unshed tears, and she’s looking at Zuko like Zuko has broken her heart. 

It’s worse than the disappointment. 

She shakes her head and turns away, lifting her hands to her face, and Sokka reaches out an arm towards her. He seems to rethink this at the last moment, letting his hand hover near her shoulder but not actually touching her. He turns a glare on Zuko.

“You’re really going to do this?” he asks. “You’re going to drop this on us and then ask us to leave?” 

Zuko flounders. 

“Sokka,” Toph says, face still burrowed into Zuko’s side. “I don’t think he’s asking us to leave. I think he’s _expecting_ us to leave.” Her arms tighten around him until it’s almost painful. “This is because I can’t punch you,” she explains. 

“Oof,” Zuko replies, and her arms loosen slightly. 

Katara turns around again, wiping tears from her eyes. “Is Toph right?” she asks. 

Zuko shrugs. Apparently it’s enough of an answer. 

“Why would you _expect us to leave_?” Sokka asks, exasperated. “I feel like I need a translator here.” 

“Oh, I’ve got it,” Toph insists. “You just come up with the worst possible interpretation you can think of, and that’s probably what he’s thinking.” 

Suki clears her throat, pulling Zuko’s attention toward her. “Hi,” she says, waving in a way that should be awkward but somehow isn’t. “We’re your soul family. Until today, we thought you were two different people: our friend Zuko, who we care about a lot, and our sixth, who died when we were kids. It’s really good to know that you’re one whole, living person. We’d like to stay with you and be a soul family. If you’ll have us.” 

Zuko’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. He looks around to the rest of the soul family - _his_ soul family - and sees only agreement. 

The hope is hesitant, waiting to be broken, but it’s there. 

“You’re ours,” Sokka says, firm and true.

Zuko nods, because he doesn’t think that he can trust his voice. Aang throws himself into the hug, squashing a grumbling Toph, and only a moment passes before Sokka and Suki join them. Zuko can’t breathe, but he can’t breathe in what feels like it might be a good way. 

Katara grabs his face with both of her hands, and looks him in the eye for what is an uncomfortable amount of time. “We want to be yours, too,” she tells him. “But Zuko, you have to _talk_ to us. We can’t help if you don’t talk to us.” 

Zuko nods, and Katara pulls him down to kiss him on the forehead, which should definitely be embarrassing but mostly just reminds him of his mother. 

He’s home, he realises. He’s home. 

* * *

Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe seems to have joined his nephew’s guards. He is standing outside Zuko’s rooms, as still and formal as the Kyoshi Warriors to either side of him, but with the ghost of a smile on his face. 

“Chief,” Iroh greets him. “Should you not be getting some rest?”

Hakoda raises an eyebrow. “I believe I could say the same to you.”

“I was just checking that my nephew is sleeping,” Iroh informs him. “He has some bad habits.”

Hakoda does smile then, and nods toward the door. “Take a look.” 

Iroh opens the door slowly and peers inside. 

Well. Zuko is certainly resting. He appears to be in the middle of a pile of teenagers and pre-teens on the bed, entangled in a way that doesn’t look very comfortable. The smallest girl, the blind one, appears to be gripping him strongly even in her sleep. 

Zuko has always been a light sleeper. He shifts and looks up from the bed, eyes bleary. He’s surprisingly relaxed. Iroh isn’t sure he’s _ever_ seen Zuko look this relaxed. “Uncle?”

“All is well, nephew,” Iroh says in a soft voice. Zuko nods and drops his head back to his pillow. His pillow is not, in fact, one of the many comfortable pillows on the bed - it’s the bicep of the Water Tribe boy. 

Iroh closes the door, and then scratches at his beard. After a moment, he looks to Hakoda and asks: “Soul family?”

“Soul family,” Hakoda agrees. “They’re complete.” 

His voice sounds a little too full of wonder. 

“I had always hoped that my nephew would find them,” Iroh says. 

Hakoda slants a glance over to Iroh before returning to his guarding position. “He almost didn’t. My kids thought he was dead. His mark was scarred over.”

That… was not expected. In all honesty, Iroh had been counting on Zuko’s soul family finding him through whatever his mark would be, since Azulon and Ozai had forcibly removed Zuko’s. Iroh had even tried gently suggesting that Zuko let the scar rest after the banishment, hoping that banishment from his blood family might lead him to his soul family, but Zuko didn’t seem to be able to see it as an option.

But if his soul family had thought he was dead… 

“Then it is a great stroke of luck that they found one another,” Iroh says. 

Zuko has always been lucky. Not in the traditional sense, like Azula, for whom fortunes always seem to lie in her favour. No, Azula’s luck has always been a double-edged sword; she gets what she wants in the short term, like Ozai’s favour, but it isn’t what she really needs. Iroh feels a pang of regret at that thought. He knows that Zuko will be kind to his sister, and hopes that one day Azula will be able to internalise that kindness.

No, Zuko’s luck has been the opposite of Azula’s. He has suffered greatly in the short term, with nothing seeming to fall into place the way that he wants it. He’s lost his father’s favour and his mother’s company, lost his soul marks, been convinced that he lost his honour. He was never able to quite catch the Avatar and return home. But in the long run, it’s all been good fortune in a terrible disguise, because it has brought him here: to his place in this soul family and his place in this nation. 

The reign of Fire Lord Zuko will go down in history as the best thing to happen to the Fire Nation. Iroh is sure of it. 

“Go and rest, Grand Lotus,” Hakoda insists. “I will keep guard of my soul children.” 

Iroh hesitates, and then laughs. Soul children. Delightful. Perhaps this family are his soul nieces and nephews. “Is that a Water Tribe concept?” 

Hakoda flashes him a smile. “It is now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done, folks! I hope that you enjoyed reading this even half as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
